


Cinnamon Mocaccino, I Suppose.

by ashesofdarksouls



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Café, Coffee Shop, Dean - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Gabriel - Freeform, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam - Freeform, cas, cinnamon mocaccino
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesofdarksouls/pseuds/ashesofdarksouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hurried, his leather-brown boots leaving a thump every time he stepped in a pool of collected rain. He was cold and a few of his fingers were bruised. His breathing was sharp and irregular, leaving behind little clouds of steam. Right when he abandoned all hope of finding a decent café which could be possibly open at 11pm and could sell hot mocha with cinnamon, he bumped into a street sign.<br/>~~IN HIATUS~~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinnamon Mocaccino, I Suppose.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coffee shop AU which is written as I go. Thanks for reading ;)  
> EDIT as of 4th May `15: omg I totes forgot about this.. I`ll try and write more?? idk  
> EDIT as of 2nd July `15: ok I`m gonna try and continue this so please hold on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT! This chapter has been edited as of July 2nd 2015, but no changes were made to the plot. If you don`t want to read it again, it`s okay. It`s just grammar and semantics editing.

He hurried, his leather-brown boots leaving a thump every time he stepped in a pool of collected rain. He was cold and a few of his fingers were bruised. His breathing was sharp and irregular, leaving behind little clouds of steam. This couldn`t be worse, he thought. Right when he abandoned all hope of finding a decent café which could be possibly open at 11pm and could sell hot mocha with cinnamon, he bumped into a street sign. Taking a sudden turn to the right, he found himself opening the door to an unknown coffee shop. If he didn`t know better, he would think it was closed. But the sign said OPEN 24H, so there he was.  
’Told you it was a good idea to keep the shop open! ’ Some guy shouted, tilting his head to indicate an open door to his right.  
No one answered him, but that didn`t seem to affect the boy. He turned back to his costumer, painting a smile on his face. ’Hello, what can I help you with? ’  
The soaked man was dripping water from his jacket, his eyes dark and gravelly. He looked like he hadn`t slept in days. ’Two hot mochas with cinnamon on top, please? ’  
The boy nodded and started to prepare the drinks. ’No one usually drinks that. They say it`s either too flavoured or not their type. ’  
The costumer laughed and replied, explaining that his two boys only drink that. ’By the way, what`s your name? You seem around the age of my boys, and we`re staying around for a few weeks. They might need a friend who knows how to prepare their favourite thing. I`m John. ’  
’Name`s Gabriel, but you haven`t seen real mocha until my bro Cassie makes it. He really pours his soul into that drink. It`s a shame no one orders it, but now I guess someone will. ’ He smiled.  
As soon as the coffees were ready, John took them and paid the boy –Gabriel- 10 bucks. ’Keep the change. ’ Gabriel nodded and thanked him, wishing the man a nice night.  
Getting outside in the still pouring rain, John tried his best to keep the mochas hot –tried. He kept walking for a few blocks, since his beloved car was in a workshop. The air was colder than before, and he quickened his pace. A few minutes passed and John made it to his boys in one piece. He unlocked the motel door and got in. His elder son had a gun in his hand, ready to fire. When he saw it was his father he let the weapon down and smiled. The other teen walked over the room and asked: ’Are those our mochas? ’  
John was proudly smirking, handing the drinks to the boys. ’And they`re still warm. Anyway, how did you manage to find hot mocaccinos with cinnamon on top at this hour, in this shitty town? ’  
’Watch your tongue, Dean. You may be 16 but you`re still living under my roof, and until you get outta here you aren`t allowed to swear near Sammy. Understood? ’  
’Yes, sir! ’ He said playfully. Sam began to complain about his nickname, droning on about how he ’wasn`t a kid anymore` and such. ’Oh, just shut up and drink, ’ his brother said. Dean took a swig of his mocha and immediately moaned.  
’God, this is heavenly. ’  
John laughed. ’The guy who made those is Gabriel. He`s about your age and I told him you`d go by that café. You need some friends as this thing will take a few weeks to kill, at least. Also, he said that he had a brother, Cassie, I think. He`s supposed to make a mocha even better than this one. ’  
Dean frowned. ’Cassie? What kind of dude-name is Cassie? ’  
John just shrugged and didn`t seem to care. Sam wasn`t too interested in anything other than his drink, taking his time to savour it. Or more like devour it, Dean thought.  
Time passed and unfortunately the mocha was finished, leaving the boys longing for more. Right then, the brothers vowed to find and visit the café, and also ask about that Cassie guy. It was nearly 2am and John advised them to sleep.  
When morning rolled around it wasn`t raining as hard as the night before, but ponds of water could still be seen on the streets. When the Winchesters got up they realized John was already out on the hunt. They didn`t bother to eat any breakfast, relying on the hamburgers they had the day before. Well, at least the leftovers of those hamburgers. They left the motel room and struggled to find the right café, asking around of `the coffee shop which sells mochas with cinnamon`. After walking around for a few minutes they stumbled upon the front door.  
’Hello. Do Gabriel and Cassie work here or did we just walk into the wrong place? ’ Dean asked.  
There was a boy standing at the counter in a neat trench coat, a white shirt and a crinkly blue tie. He didn`t make a move, but once Dean got closer he could see his tag: Castiel. ’Oh, ’ he said. Sorry I must have gotten the wrong piece of information and this isn`t the café I was looking for. ’  
Castiel was staring into Dean`s green eyes, completely oblivious of Sam`s presence. Dean raised a brow, clearly waiting for an answer.  
’Oh, I apologize for my late reply. Yes, Gabriel is my brother and he works here. I just happen to help him once in a while, like today. And my name is Castiel, not Cassie. Gabe calls me like that to make fun of me. He thinks it`s hilarous. ’ He was still looking into a green abyss, but Dean was holding the gaze.  
Sam coughed and the two broke the stare, both with a slight blush. (Castiel`s was more prominent.) The younger Winchester asked about hot mochas with cinnamon, to which the barista started grinning. ’I don`t have any costumers who actually buy that. Gabriel mostly keeps it in the menu for people like me, which almost never come to our coffee shop out of anxiety problems. So yes, to cut it short, you are the first people to order this in a couple of months. Well, apart from a man who bought two cups yesterday, ’ he said, eyeing the elder boy.  
’That one was our father, but he`s out, working now, ’ Dean found himself saying. He actually didn`t care much about explaining their family business to people, knowing their usual manner of moving out of and in different towns. At least five, every year. The boys didn`t spend more than two months anywhere since their mother, Mary, died. John insisted on the hunter life, raising them like little soldiers. But he was also a father to them. The man never crossed the limit, not once shouted at them for doing something wrong. He reassured the two brothers and gave them shelter when nothing seemed to be right, when their world would tear apart because of some evil spirit or demon. Sometimes John would get home with a bullet wound and Sam or Dean would fix it, make it better. There was one time when John got stabbed in the arm by some gone-crazy shapeshifter. That night, after Dean was done with aiding him, Sam came to him and put a smiley-face plaster on his wound. He was five at the time, and it only made John smile. The elder Winchester, of course, began laughing and being an utter ass about it. But eventually he admitted that Sammy was a good kid and accepted playing with soldier toys to keep him company. The two got along well at most of times, partly because they were only a couple of years apart from each other.  
Castiel tried his best to smile while preparing their drinks, which were already on the counter when Dean finished remembering the night when they were kids. He took his mocha and tasted it. He first felt the cinnamon explode in tiny bits of bliss and sensed the smooth surface of it, then took a bigger sip and tasted the strong and sweet chocolate, with a tip of coffee, but not as much as expected. Castiel could prepare a mochaccino as well as Dean could repair a `67 Chevy Impala - and Dean loved his father`s car.


End file.
